Lt JG Braya - Get Me Another

[Braya of Clan Ralnek]

((Federation Headquarters Ballroom, Bolarus IX)) 

A year into knowing the man, and Braya had yet to devise a nickname for Elor Letek. Perhaps more than any other crew member, he seemed to not have a single sour bone in his body. AFter somewhat wearing her heart on her sleeve, imploring that he abandon her not just at the party, but as a friend, for his own sake, he seemed to dismiss the notion out of hand without a thought. It baffled her. 

Braya: I ain’t tryin’ to make this thing all awkward for ya’. Y’er one o’ the good ones. Truly. An’ ya’ should enjoy y'erself at this thing, okay?

Her eyes held his a moment.

Letek: I don't think there's anything awkward about it. Don't worry about it. If I didn't want to be here with you, I wouldn't have asked you. Come on, let's get a drink.

Humbled, but honored, Braya managed the slightest smile. 

Braya: Now y’er speakin’ my language. 

A moniker came to mind then. Finally. But she kept it to herself, not wanting to spoil the moment. A few moments later, Elor was sporting a flamboyant looking glass, while her own, filled with a Bolian liquor the barman assured had the highest available proof, they raised glasses to one another. 

Letek: Here’s to a great evening!

Braya: Or at least not a foul one. 

More officers were quickly filling the ballroom, and the pair made their way toward a table before they were all spoken for.

Letek: ::pointing with his finger:: There’s still a spot open over there!

A glance, and Braya spotted Kettick. Duty hours didn’t often take her to Engineering, and she’d not spend much time with the Chief, but what she knew of him drew a thin smile; a pair of his grenades ended her losing slugfest with a holographic Klingon. She’d recently spent a lot of time in fist fights with Klingons, she realized then. 

Braya: Grab ‘em, b’fore they be gone. 

Letek: Commander Kettick. Do you mind if we sit with you? 

Kettick: By all means, Lieutenant. As long as you do not intend to drag me on the dancefloor.

With a tip of her glass toward him, Braya swung a booted foot up onto the table, shaking her head emphatically. 

Braya: Anyone tries draggin’ any o’ us, we all throw down. Deal? 

Letek: Response

There was an odd chittering sound from the insect-like Engineer. It was almost like a laugh, making Braya purse her lips in thought. Was it meant to be a best approximation, or did it mean something else altogether? A mystery for another time. 

Kettick: What is the saying? Misery shared is misery... :: a beat :: no, that would be "squared", which is not encouraging at all.

Braya: ::Finishing her drink, waving down a server for another:: ‘Alved. The Humans say it get’s ‘alved. Don’t make no sense t’me, neither. Y’er all miserable then. ‘Squared’ is the right o’ it.

Eyes sweeping the room, Braya caught sight of many officers she knew, and one new one, Envoy Avariswal, of whom her only knowledge was a brief introduction and welcome she’d received on her PADD.  

Braya: Whadda’ ya’ make o’ that new one? ::Tipping her glass in Avariswal’s direction, and then drinking::

Letek: Response

Kettick: Quite. I suspect that between us, the new addition to our crew would have to pull double duty. I only wish we had a diplomat onboard before that whole Alomian mess.

Braya: Or just anyone with one ounce o’ - 

Cutting her words short, Braya used a long gulp of alcohol to keep from saying something she’d regret. There was plenty of night left for that. 

Letek/Kettick: Response?

Braya: ::With a wince, dismissive:: I ain’t ‘eard who’s takin’ ‘is place. ch’Clex, maybe. 

Williams’ departure was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but there was no denying that with him gone, and the Marines being shipped out, the warrior caste was severely depleted aboard the Eagle. It would be interesting to see how its leadership dealt with the vacancy in their ranks. 

Letek/Kettick: Response?

Tags/TBC

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Lt. JG Braya of Clan Ralnek

HCO

USS Eagle

E240205B13